


Trouble with Distance

by 221B_Marauder



Series: Collective Variation [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, M/M, Swords & Fencing, boyfriends visiting each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-16
Updated: 2012-09-16
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:36:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221B_Marauder/pseuds/221B_Marauder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay, I want you to look at me, observe when I say <em>en garde</em>.” Sherlock speaks as he looks to his left at John, waiting for him to signal his understanding. John simply nods.</p>
<p>Can be read as a Stand alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trouble with Distance

**Author's Note:**

> To poveqandachinochosis for the johnlock gift exchange.

“So why can’t I hold the sword yet?” John asks jokingly, watching closely for Sherlock’s reaction.

“ _Foil_ , John.” Sherlock corrects him quickly without a second thought. “And why would I let you hold one when we haven’t even started you on form and footwork yet.” Sherlock smirks, walking around John in a close and slow circle. 

“You’re going to get bored.” John warns him in a low voice, following Sherlock's movements closely with his head.

Sherlock’s head snaps up at the words, the corners of his lips twitching in a concealed smile. Seeing the slight movements and being familiar with them John smiles warmly at him before looking straight ahead again. “All right then. Tell me what to do.”

John can’t see Sherlock grin behind his back before he begins his instruction. 

“You’re left handed so I want your left foot to be straight in front of you and your right to make a ninety degree angle by your toe pointing to the right – yes, like that, heels together.” Sherlock commands and continues to walk around him to look at his form, but John is too busy staring down at his feet and the position they’re in to really care.

“This is awkward.” John mutters, still looking down at his feet held in an unnatural position. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Sherlock promises as he settles down to John’s right.

John turns to look at Sherlock, aware that he is about to be shown something.

“Okay, I want you to look at me, observe what I do when I say _en garde._ ” Sherlock speaks as he looks to his left at John, waiting for him to signal his understanding. John simply nods. 

“ _En Garde!_ ” Sherlock snaps smartly, his left foot remaining planted in its position while his right moved swiftly forward to a shoulder length apart. The heel of his right foot comes down first before his legs take on a slight squatting position, his right arm also comes up and out and his left arm bends at the elbow with his hand on his left hip.

John is very impressed by the sudden snap to attention.

“I want you to do what I just did, only with the opposite feet.” Sherlock mentions as he’s straightening up once more in a fluid movement before turning to look back at John. “ _En Garde!_ ”

John hesitates for a short moment before he extends his left foot, and obviously as a second thought squats down slightly. He doesn’t know what to do with his arms and hands and just stares at them bemusedly. He can hear Sherlock laughing quietly. “Don’t laugh,” John mutters, turning to glare back at Sherlock.

“No. No, it’s just a little amusing. Here,” Sherlock begins with a grin still on his face as he steps up to John. “Raise up a little bit, don’t squat so low. Look at your left foot and see how it’s no longer straight ahead but pointing in – yeah, keep it straight ahead. Now bring your left foot back about two inches, you only need to be a shoulder width apart.” 

John quickly follows the hasty orders and soon enough Sherlock has him in a decent position before going back to his side and placing one hand on his chest and the other on his back and pushing and pulling until Johns’ upper body was turned to its side, providing the smallest target, straight-backed and facing the right direction while his lower body was squatted slightly in the knees and still a very awkward position. 

“I want you to hold your position like this to get the feel of what you have to do. Keep facing forward, don’t look down. Just feel what position your body has taken.”

“Sherlock?” John murmurs while trying his hardest not to search for Sherlock by moving his head.

“Yes, John.” Sherlock replies quickly, coming in closer to him.

“What exactly am I meant to do with these?” John asks as he’s lifting up his arms and letting them flop back down uselessly.

Sherlock gives a half smile before reaching for John’s dominant hand and putting it into a similar position to how he had held his, elbow bent upwards and loose fist inches from his face. Shifting to his other side and giving a surprisingly soft kiss to the knuckles of John’s right hand before lifting the arm up and pushing the hand back so it rested up in the open, away from his body with his empty palm forward.

John fights a grin, he had suspected why Sherlock would want to teach him form today on the limited amount of time they had together this weekend. 

“I feel like Harry Potter.” John snickers his statement the moment Sherlock steps back before he abandons caution completely and just snogs Sherlock already.

“What?” Sherlock spits his question, coming to stand closely in front of him again, his eyes narrowed and focused.

“You know. In Chamber of Secrets, the dueling club scene. How Harry Potter held his wand and his other hand was like this one.” John flicks his fingers in his right hand as he tries to ignore that he’d only need to lean forward an inch for Sherlock to get the message.

Sherlock scoffs, seemingly ignorant that John just wants him already. “Of course they would use this form for dueling with wands. They took the basics from fencing, which is the modern equivalent of duels that took place in history so replacing it to fit an unsubstantial fantasy film was inevitable.” 

John grins up at Sherlock. “I always wanted to be a wizard,” he drops the bomb and doesn't have to wait long for the expected reaction. 

Sherlock groans, throwing his head back and baring his long pale neck in the process before looking back at John with a forced looking glare. “It wouldn’t help if I tell you it isn’t possible, will it?” Sherlock inquires, fully knowing the answer already.

“Nope,” John snorts softly in an attempt at a serious reply, giving Sherlock another bright innocent smile before doing his hardest to pay serious attention to his form and not give into the urge to bury his face in Sherlock’s inviting neck.

Sherlock sighs before turning away in which a moment is all it takes for John to give in, drop his form, and press his lips lightly against the back of Sherlock’s neck before retreating just as quickly.

Sherlock swirls around to look at John with a surprised look, only to find him grinning, and somehow still in a close position to where he had been before. It was obvious John had paid attention to the form his body had been bullied into before, despite his current distractions.

Sherlock’s look of surprise changes to a smirk that screams of predator before taking a light hold of each side of John’s waist and bringing himself in to kiss him firmly on the lips in contrast. _Thank god, finally!_

John’s hands come down to rest on Sherlock’s shoulders which he uses to push himself up on his toes to get closer to Sherlock. It’s entirely unfair how Sherlock is still growing taller, that or he’s shrinking. 

“I think I like this fencing instruction.” John murmurs as Sherlock pulls back only to be held in place by Johns’ hands on his shoulders. “Come on. Kiss me again.” John demands as he uses his left hand to clasp the back of Sherlock’s neck, pulling his head downwards again to his level.

“This isn’t fencing.” Sherlock groans his correction before following down and licking back into John’s mouth anyway. 

That particular fun doesn’t last as there is still practice to be done. Sherlock can have a one track mind, and if he wanted John to learn a decent fencing position and basic attack and retreat movements, John was going to learn.

“I haven’t lost too much of my strength.” John pants, leaning against a wall as he grins at Sherlock who is busy packing up his gear, the one he had taken out to let John practice a little with. 

“Not yet. But if you don’t continue exercise, you will lose it. And then what will I do with a boyfriend who can't keep up when running?” Sherlock smirks at John, stopping beside him to lean against the wall and slide down to a sprawl.

John laughs and slides down to sit beside Sherlock. “I would join the football team but there’s just too much work and studying to be done.” He shrugs before continuing softly to what they had been ignoring since John arrived. “I am sorry it has taken me until now to visit you.” John admits.

“Yes. And then you visit when I am preparing for a competition.” Sherlock turns his head to look down at him. 

John flushes. “I’m sorry about that too. I didn’t mean to get in the way. I thought _surprise_ and went with the idea without thinking it through.” John shrugs apologetically as he looks back up to stare at the far opposite wall.

“Don’t be stupid, John.” Sherlock counters firmly, leaning over to kiss John again. A moment later he leans back to sit comfortably again only this time John follows and plants himself on Sherlock’s lap to regain physical contact.

“I miss this. God, I miss this.” John mutters feverishly as Sherlock wraps his long arms around him, bringing him closer. They haven’t seen each other in a little over two months and John needs to see him more often than that.

“Should have –“ Sherlock grips John’s arse playfully and presses his lips against John’s adams apple, “– come to Cambridge with me.” Sherlock sighs as he swipes his tongue broadly over John’s pulse point, making John squirm in his lap. His mind has steadily become hazed the more Sherlock touches him.

John makes a sound like he's choking, squirming a little as Sherlock pays painful attention to his neck, causing him to lean to one side to give him more room and in the process rubs against something growing and familiar between Sherlock’s thighs that makes Sherlock quickly exhale hot air out over his sensitive skin.

John shifts his hips again, trying to get his bum to rub against Sherlock’s growing erection stuck between both of their clothes. Sherlock groans, “Stop, stop now if we are still to go out for the night and maybe some dinner.” Apparently Sherlock is planning on dinner today, how charming. But Sherlock squeezes John’s hips at an angle to move against him. 

Grinning, John shifts his lower body again and watches a little dazed as Sherlock’s head flies back to hit painfully against the painted brick wall. Moving his right hand from Sherlock’s chest, John moves it around to cradle the back of Sherlock’s head. He feels heat pooling rapidly at his groin and shifts with a new almost more important purpose of making it feel better.

Sherlock gasps sharply, pushing John off his lap and to the side as he suddenly stands up a little imperfectly as he tries to catch his breath. “There's a case, and you need dinner.” Sherlock mutters under his breath as he attempts to regain control over his body.

John groans quietly, slumping against the wall as he watches Sherlock regain quick control over himself once more, it's saddening to watch.

The case was incredibly quick. Only requiring Sherlock to be intimidating before getting what he needed. As usual, John was impressed but more than a little frustrated by that point. It was almost disheartening that dinner was a lengthy affair, at one of the better restaurants near the campus that only the wealthy could really afford because it was nice but completely overpriced. 

But before their venture into the evening, Sherlock had insisted on changing after they left the practice room. John had to suffer through seeing his boyfriend undress and not being allowed to touch, yet. Suffering silently as Sherlock meticulously dressed in fine clothes and John threw on a casual button up and jeans because that just happened to be what he brought with him and nothing exactly tailored for what Sherlock had in mind. 

Dinner wasn’t a disaster. But it was odd because he knew what Sherlock had been trying. Sweet and a little misguided, but completely unnecessary. At least they were to make their way back to Sherlock’s room now. Surely he wouldn’t be made to wait much longer.

* * *

Back in his single, Sherlock has finally pressed John upon several surfaces that include the back of his door, the edge of his desk, against the window and windowsill, and the most recent and current being into his mattress.

John is unbuckling Sherlock and pulling his trousers down, taking his time to tease Sherlock’s growing bulge with the thigh he’d managed to slip in between his legs. 

“Do you have lube?” John breathes a little urgently.

Sherlock is breathing harshly as well before shaking his head no, not having a pressing need for it on a daily basis and because of his bastard brother he's severely lacking in that area. “Lotion,” He manages to groan while simultaneously pulling John closer. 

“My bag. There’s some in my bag.” John groans into Sherlock’s mouth.

Sherlock peels himself off of John, shedding the rest of his clothes as he rummages in John’s overnight for the lube and condoms. He Returns quickly back to the bed, victoriously to a very naked and aroused John, Sherlock grins down at his recently elusive boyfriend who smiles right back at him before motioning him closer. 

Sherlock has to open the bottle and peel the seal before setting it to rights again. “Hurry,” John demands, turning over on knees and hands in an explosion of movement. 

Sherlock slicks up his fingers and waits for John to spread his legs as he braces himself in his current position, which he does quickly. He nearly cries when the tip of his first finger goes in and gradually sinks inside. He makes a pathetically needy sound to rival that of John’s when his second finger joins the first and John is pushing back at his hand. He’s panting breathlessly by the time his third finger rests inside his boyfriend and he feels hot pressure on his fingers that would feel so much better somewhere else.

“Oh god, Sherlock. Don’t make me wait longer, hurry!” John cries, his forehead hitting the duvet.

“On your back. I want to see you.” Sherlock gasps his demands, helping John turn, and marveling at seeing John naked in his bed. 

John is on his back, watching him closely as he rolls on a condom and slicks himself without making a sound of concern over Sherlock’s method. They have trusted each other for a long time now for there to be talks about process. 

Sherlock pushes his thighs against the back of John’s, effectively spreading them further and making his cock jump at seeing John spread out beneath him just for him. He stretches out and over John and bends to kiss him with warm wet lips. 

John is eager, opening his mouth to Sherlock and humming and stretching as Sherlock kisses him, sliding off his mouth and down his jaw, past his neck and throat and down to his chest, stopping to tease a nipple with his lips. 

He cradles Sherlock’s head in his arms as he arches up, letting himself be read through unseen actions, feeling warm and open and needing to be filled now. “Sherlock,” he breaths unnecessarily but not unwelcome, Sherlock knows.

Sherlock moves up for a quick kiss, moved at John being so open with his thoughts now, before moving again and taking himself in hand and lining up. He’s pushing in now; John holding one hand on Sherlock’s hip while the other grips at his own hair as he is slowly penetrated, arching his body at the sensation, his body screaming to them both that it needs more. 

John’s brows are scrunching together and Sherlock thinks briefly that John needs to relax more to take him comfortably but then John opens his eyes to slits and his mouth is curled into a pleased smile as he lets go of his hair. His hair is left sticking out in all sorts of directions, Sherlock cannot resist running his clean left hand through the hair.

His hands are extending and reaching for Sherlock's and Sherlock exhales as he pushes himself inside fully and interlocks their fingers pressed into the bed.

He will never delete how John looks during sex. Sherlock adores beautiful things: music, chemistry, intrigue, a rush, a challenge, John. 

Using his hand and then forearms he helps John position his legs, swinging them over Sherlock’s shoulders where the heels of John’s feet are pressing almost painfully against his back. They finish that way, John crying out loudly and sharply as ever when it’s that good and Sherlock low and hoarse with a nearly brilliant feral impression. 

Sprawled in his bed and cooling down and rolling the both of them out of the spot of the mess when the plan is to stay in bed as long as possible, they shift closer towards each other to make space. 

Sherlock has to suppress the rush of affection that always tries to consume him when they’re in bed like this, his body buried against John’s side, his nose nuzzling between John’s neck and armpit, he is comfortable. 

John likes to hold him after sex. Sherlock doesn’t complain, he likes the closeness afterwards too. Also the fact that no one is allowed that close besides each other helps him with the still new urge.

As if John can read his thoughts, he’s pulled in closer and he no longer resists the urge to mouth at John’s collar bone. 

“You have been teasing me all day” John starts a little lazily, his tone fond nonetheless. 

“Have I?” He questions, pleased that John had caught the hints throughout the afternoon.

“Practice? Case? Dinner? Take your pick.” Sherlock leans up to look at John because he has to see his expression now. He sees nothing but fondness and a little exhaustion that has been peeking out at him all day.

“It’s called seduction, not teasing.” Sherlock grumbles. Surely John knows the definition; he was the one that pointed it out a while ago.

“Is it?” John grins cheekily at him. 

“Of course, you said it yourself. Though you did add romance into the equation, I didn't think it was exactly necessary for what i had in mind when you showed up unexpectedly. I know what you like though, so I decided to actually teach you fencing. You seemed to enjoy it before, but we weren’t going to be playing around like we did back in Form. Then you can't deny you like joining me when I'm doing something mildly interesting. I also recall you like to eat.” Sherlock lists off, wondering if he'd catch approval from John for his though process over the matter. 

John giggles, pulling him back down into his arms. “I liked playing around,” John complains good-naturedly, "except you were hesitant in touching me then, I can't complain about the newer developments". 

“Fencing isn’t a game.” Sherlock sniffs in retaliation, pleased all the same with John's words.

He finds himself being pulled up into a kiss, effectively shutting him up. For the moment.

**Author's Note:**

> poveqandachinochosis wanted something kind of silly: _“I would like for sherlock trying to be seductive and failing at it but john is amused anyway. Any rating.”_ , and got stuck with me. 
> 
> I think this fic says a lot about what I think is seductive... or what I think Sherlock thinks is seductive. 
> 
> Failure is relative? Forgive me.


End file.
